


You Never Stop Being A Picky Eater

by BlobFrog



Series: The Umbrella Academy (with a teensy weensy hint of eating disorders) [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Bulimia, Eating Disorders, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 16:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20195170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlobFrog/pseuds/BlobFrog
Summary: Vanya had always been a picky eater. She'd never been a fan of the different textures. They felt like they burnt her mouth. Like needles were poking at her teeth and gums each time she put them in her mouth. Her brain would scream and the sounds around her would always get louder and louder. She couldn’t control it.





	You Never Stop Being A Picky Eater

Vanya had always been a picky eater. She'd never been a fan of the different textures. They felt like they burnt her mouth. Like needles were poking at her teeth and gums each time she put them in her mouth. She’d feel nauseous after eating things that had a strange texture. Her brain would scream and the sounds around her would always get louder and louder. She couldn’t control it. 

Instead of feeding her something that she would eat comfortably Hargreeves created Grace to force feed her. That wasn’t the whole purpose of Grace but it was her initial purpose. To put food into Vanya’s mouth that she detested, the same food that caused the deaths of all the previous Nanny’s. 

She grew older and with this regime she ate all the food offered to her no matter if it made her want to claw her throat out, no matter if her mouth would burn and bleed at the food being put into it. She knew it was all in her head but it didn't make it any less real for her. She suffered through it because she had no other choice, what could she do. Then her powers got taken away and locked deep inside her.

Her powers weren’t the reason for her picky eating and she didn’t suddenly love the textures of the food being forced into her mouth. The drugs she took killed her personality. They killed all her emotions and with those emotions went the screaming. She couldn’t feel the agony caused by the food she ate if she didn’t feel anything at all.

This really didn’t mean she was cured. She still hated eating oatmeal with a passion and as she grew up she learnt some tricks. These food didn’t only affect her mouth but her stomach as well, she really didn’t like certain textures. So she learnt to throw up after nearly every meal. All the food causing her irritation. The throwing up causing her relief.

It felt like freedom.

It wasn’t until she moved out that she learnt that food could be a good thing, that food didn’t have to sting and hurt. But it was already too late. The years of being force fed food turned her away from it. She ate when she needed and she ate what she wanted but it never left her with any appreciation for food. Even foods with pleasant textures didn’t taste of anything anymore. 

Everything was left tasteless in her mouth.

The throwing up didn’t stop. She no longer had a reason to be always be throwing up, she had full control over what she ate. But still every time she would eat the nausea would eat at her till she gave in and put her fingers down her throat to retch out her insides. It came to the point where she couldn’t eat without throwing up straight after. She began to supplement her meals with meal replacement shakes. The only thing that she could keep down.

It was no longer a freedom. 

It was a trap that she was still stuck in. she no longer felt like she had any control over her life. She had left the house and ventured into the world by herself and she was still trapped. Trapped with thoughts of foods she wished she could eat and trapped under the weight of her childhood. Trapped under her own weight which she noticed was dropping dramatically. 

She started writing after it all became too much. The writing taking over most of her time. She wasn’t practicing with her violin, she wasn’t showering and most importantly she wasn’t eating. She finished her first book in record time. She never released it, it was too personal, too focused on her own personal abuse. 

It was too focused on food.

Her second book briefly skimped over the fact that even a grain of the wrong texture in her mouth made her want to melt into a puddle. That she threw up everything she ate and when that became too much she just wouldn’t eat all together. It was all glossed over in the second book. The only book she published.

When the book tour came her ribs were so prominent that she wore layers upon layers so she wouldn’t look like a living skeleton. Was this really living? With the release of the book came a sense of relief and she had just been accepted into the orchestra. Things were becoming okay and she ate. A piece of bread here and there. Maybe a bit of chicken, completely flavorless.

She started eating again and even though she still threw up sometimes at least the food didn’t burn. She was thankful that she could eat food that didn’t burn. 

She was sat at the table in her childhood home for breakfast, no longer just skin and bones. She was still quite underweight but she was no longer on the brink of death now. Grace put a plate down in front of her and she took a big bite out of the food. It was oatmeal. She forgot that she would never be okay with textures, she thought she had finally put that behind her.

Her mouth burned.


End file.
